


Lonely

by taxilady23



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-27
Updated: 2005-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-01 06:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxilady23/pseuds/taxilady23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So alone. And tired of lies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lonely

## Lonely

by Linda C.

Rating: Older teenager/mature  
Warnings: Thoughts of suicide  
Spoilers: Unsafe/Pariah  
Disclaimer: Own none of the characters.

AN: When I saw Blaine Larsen's "How Do You Get That Lonely?" video, it was right after re-watching Unsafe and seeing that lone teardrop roll down Clark's cheek. The heartache of being alone in the world, even with so many around you. Then this song. The long asleep muse roused and nudged. Been there, almost done that. The video plays on CMT regularly. Watch it and see if you recognize anyone. Don't let them be alone anymore or become a name on a second page. 

+++++ 

It was just another story, printed on the second page, Underneath the Tiger's football score.  
It said he was only eighteen, a boy about my age. They found him facedown on his bedroom floor. There'll be services on Friday at the Lawrence Funeral Home. Then out on Mooresville Highway, they'll lay him 'neath a stone. 

Clark turned the wedding band in his fingers, thinking back on the Vegas marriage. Even under the Red Kryptonite, he knew he wasn't doing the right thing. Sure, he loved Alicia, but only because she was like him, a freak. She knew his secret and understood the loneliness of being different. She loved him and accepted him, even reveled in the fact that together they made up their own little family. And now she was dead, murdered. A widower at the age of seventeen. Sure he had told his Mom it wasn't even legal, but they had gotten married, they had a license and everything. But it wasn't consummated. And with his Alicia dead, it never would be. Clark just knew he would always be alone. He was a freak. 

How do you get that lonely?  
How do you hurt that bad?  
Make you make the call, that havin' no life at all Is better than the life that you had?  
How do you feel so empty you want to let it all go? How do you get that lonely... 

And nobody know? 

His mom had given him a lecture that morning, after he had gotten them both home. About marriage being a sacred thing, that he had been raised better than that. But what she would never understand was his pain at being the only one of his kind on the planet. And how his secrets cost him his best friend in the world, his Lex, his true love and soulmate. He had loved him for years now, his heart ripping apart more each time he lied. They had fought before, but after the discovery of the secret room, it had gotten worse. As much as he loved Lex, he knew it would be a long time before he could ever trust him again. Then it was discovered that Lex had been instrumental in Chloe and Mr. Sullivan's escape from the safe house. Another secret, another lie. Another brick in the wall they had been building between them. But the wall was not stable, not totally dry of mortal and brick, not just yet. They were trying, moving inch at a time, it seemed sometimes. But the distance was still there, still almost that not quite palpable wall between them both. And he knew he would die a little inside every time he saw him. Smelled him. Wanted him. And he knew Lex was hurting too. The looks he had been receiving, the not so subtle reaching out, the football uniforms, the equipment. A plea for friendship, a hand wanting to reach. And Clark wanting to take it in his, press a kiss to the palm, and be friends again. He missed that small smile, the shine in the blue eyes that seemed like the sunrise, warm and soft like flannel sheets wrapped around you on a cold day, buried under covers with the one you loved. He had seen Lex's bedroom, saw the sheets, no longer silk and cold but dark blue flannel, the same pattern of the shirt that had been wrapped around Lex's shoulders that one cool day in the loft when they had talked for hours after Ryan died. 

Did his girlfriend break up with him,  
Did he buy or steal that gun?  
Did he lose a fight with drugs or alcohol? Did his mom and daddy forget to say,  
"I love you, son"? 

Sure, he had loved Alicia, but he hadn't been IN love with her. That special love was reserved for Alexander Joseph Luthor, the man he had been running away from for over a year now. To protect himself, but more to protect Lex. Anyone close to him got hurt. His Mom and the baby, his Dad, Lana, Chloe, Pete. Pete, his childhood friend, who couldn't take knowing his secret anymore and moved away. And he would not see Lex die. He would sacrifice himself first. Like he had sacrificed his love, his desire, his need to just be around the very air Lex breathed. 

And he knew his parents loved him, but they would never understand his loneliness, his fears, his heart dying a bit inside every day he was away from the man he loved. The man they would never accept as his husband, his mate, his other half of his soul and body. His Seget. His life. Hell, they had never accepted Alicia in his life. God knows what they would do to Lex, who he was sure had feelings for him. The looks over the years, the long glances up and down his body, the deep gazes into his eyes, the hurt pouring out of Lex with each lie uttered to him. 

He remembered the words that had put so much joy into his heart. He had asked Lex if he missed having any siblings. Lex had his back to him and he thought he was going to just continue walking, the question too personal in light of their slowly rebudding relationship. "I used to. Until I met you, Clark." The look of love in those blue eyes when he turned and held Clark's gaze. "You're closer...than any brother." The pause, the slight movement of the slender body toward him and Clark had been hard pressed not to move, gather Lex into his arms and just kiss him. The moment passed too quickly though and Lex had left, Clark's heart a little lighter and a whole lot happier. In fact, those words carried him through most of his aching loneliness at night, stopping the tears, bringing them forth at times. His mate if only he could reach out one last time and not pull back. Tell the truth. God, he was so tired of being alone. So tired. 

Getting up, Clark moved unsteadily toward the chest by the wall, kneeling down, resting his hands on the wood his father had carved with his own hands. Lifting the lid, he removed the top layers of clothing, pulling out a small lead box. His secret, no one knew he had it. Not his parents, that's for sure. This was his secret alone. His atonement when he felt too much pain, too much disappointment in himself. His punishment for not doing the right thing at the right time. Like telling the truth to Lex. 

Did no see the writing on the wall?  
I'm not blamin' anybody, we all do the best we can. I know hindsight's 20/20 but I still don't understand. 

He had told Alicia he was a virgin, like her. To women yes, but to men, no. Not with his pick of clean shaven, baldheaded men, some with grey-blue eyes, that didn't mind if, at the moment of orgasm, he screamed out Lex's name at the top of his lungs. Men who he sucked and fucked, and who returned the favor. No, no virgin to men. But the regret that came later, when he realized that he had given that precious gift away like a cheap whore, when he had been waiting so long for Lex, burned into his very soul. Alone. Again. His body ached at night, his hand bringing him to completion, Lex's name on his lips, his face in front of him, that little smile as he watched Clark come for him. If only it were true. Some nights it was all Clark could do to not to run to the castle and climb the wall to his window, just to see him sleep. Wrapped in his blue sheets. Alone. 

Clark closed his eyes, one hand rubbing against his stomach, moving lower as he pictured Lex's fingers stroking him, touching him. Loving him. Drawing in a ragged breath, he gave a final brush against his hard sex, knowing he would never feel that touch. Too young, too much betrayal between them both to ever expect that kind of love to come his way. Lex was so damaged inside, his self-esteem wrapped around him like a shield, but so beaten down deep in his soul by the years of abuse from Lionel. Even Clark didn't think he could ever reach the black spaces that held the pain so tightly clasped inside that slim, deceptively fragile body. So strong, so resilient, but yet so breakable, both heart and soul. And Clark knew he had been a part of that damage, that shattering of the delicate crystal that surrounded Lex's heart. And knew that he would also understand the deep loneliness that Lex suffered every day. 

How do you get that lonely?  
How do you hurt that bad?  
Make you make the call, that havin' no life at all Is better than the life that you had?  
How do you feel so empty you want to let it all go? How do you get that lonely... 

And nobody know? 

It was just another story printed on the second page, Underneath the Tiger's football score. 

The song began once again, Clark having pushed the repeat button before sitting down to think. 

It was just another story printed on the second page, Underneath the Tiger's football score.  
It said he was only eighteen, a boy about my age. They found him facedown on his bedroom floor. There'll be services on Friday at the Lawrence Funeral Home. Then out on Mooresville Highway, they'll lay him 'neath a stone. 

Wiping a tear from his cheek, Clark placed his shaking hand on the lid of the lead box, taking a deep breath of resolve. The green glow crept out, his heartbeat speeding up as he continued to lift the lid. Closing his eyes, he pictured all those he loved and held dear to his heart and soul. Mom and Dad, Chloe, Pete, Lana. His wife of only a few hours, Alicia. And lastly, the man who had owned him from the day Clark's lips had touched his, Lex. His other half, his mate, his destiny. His heart. His soul. His life. 

How do you get that lonely... 

And nobody know? 

The last sad refrain of the song played softly, drowning out the even softer footsteps coming up the loft steps. Clark never saw the man behind him, but started when the cool, slim fingers covered his and shut the lid. Eyes flying wide, green looking into blue, seeing the love shining from them, the unshed tears glistening. The warmth as slender, strong arms encircled him, pulling him close, lips touching his. 

"I know. And you'll never be alone. Never." A firm finger pushed the off button on the player. 

"Never." 

End 

No man is useless who has a friend, and if we are loved we are indispensable. 

-Robert Louis Stevenson, novelist, essayist, and poet (1850-1894) 


End file.
